


A Haunted Carol

by happywitch416



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: All Souls' Day, F/M, Found Family, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Other, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Remorse, reuniting with the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 18:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21257591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywitch416/pseuds/happywitch416
Summary: I was given the prompt to do a Halloween spin on A Christmas Carol. Now, Rose has no Scrooge level character flaws, but the one person she would love to see again is her father. What if they got that chance?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bioware claims All Souls Day occurs during the month of August, no points for creativity, in Thedas. Now. If that calendar follows the same tilt as the northern hemisphere that would mean they essentially take a holiday right as the harvest season is going into full swing. Southern Hemisphere would be spring. But I prefer All Soul’s in Fall and November with pumpkins and weather. What do we do with canon? Beat it with a wrench and loot its corpse for crafting materials.

All Soul’s Day was upon them already. Rose sighed staring at the mountain of paperwork trying to crush her desk. “Come to bed, menace. It’ll be there tomorrow.”

She gave Varric an exhausted smile. “Along with a stack of new ones.” He brushed a kiss against her forehead as she wrapped an arm him before tilting her head up to look at him. “I’ll be to bed soon, love. Just the ones that need signatures, the rest can wait.”

He shook his head and kissed her again. “You better, or I’ll enact an order from the Viscount.”

She leaned around the papers to scowl at him. “As Champion, I don’t have to follow them.”

“I’ll tell Violet and you can explain yourself to your children.” He laughed as he dodged the wad of paper she sent flying at him.

“Get out, storyteller, and I’ll be done faster.” She smiled shaking her head after he closed the door and started humming a song they had heard the other night.

Her hand was cramping. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing feeling back into her fingers, and ignoring how high the moon was in the sky. She rose and grabbed the pitcher of water she kept near her desk, sending a little spike of ice through it before she refilled her glass. She heard the papers rustle on the desk and turned ready to send a child back to bed. The room was empty. She set her glass down and stepped softly around the desk. “Duncan?” She peered around the chairs, behind the desk, checked the locked window. “I must be more tired then I thought.” A jaw popping yawn confirmed her suspicion and she flopped into one of the chairs before the fire. “I’ll just rest my eyes a minute before.” She was asleep in the next breath.


	2. Chapter 2

She wasn’t sure how long she slept, it felt like moments and days all at the same time, when she groggily rubbed her eyes open. There was a figure in the other chair, fuzzily familiar with dark hair and sharp jaw. “Carver?”

“Ah, so he did grow up to look like me at least.” She blinked several times, willing away this vision while desperately hoping maybe it was true. “How is my daring little Hawke?”

“Papa.” You shouldn’t be able to hug ghosts but yet here he was solid as he wrapped his arms around her. He still smelled like cedar and mountain air. She settled on her knees before him, hands clasped in his. “But how?”

Malcolm shook his head and tapped her nose. “You of all my children should know the night of All Souls lets the living and dead pass between.” 

“They. Papa, Bethany and Carver, they’re dead.”

“I know.” He said forlornly. “A long time ago now, your mother too.” She nodded. “The Maker’s children don’t wait here like I have. Your mother I saw again in passing but not Bethany or Carver. I would have liked to have seen them. Apologized.” He gave her a rueful smile. “But, I can finally finish my last act and I will see them again.”

“If you had stayed among the Avvar would you be one of their Spirits?”

His smile brightened. “You remember!”

She shook her head with a chuckle, getting to her feet and settling on the edge of the chair. “Not as much as I wish. But I did spend time at Stone-Bear Hold and with their Augur, who recognized the name Hawke.” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “He had some interesting stories about a young shaman blessed by the Lady of the Skies, who was more interested in becoming a skald.” Her smile lost its playfulness, turning more questioning with each word. “and when he was told he was to be the next Augur he exiled himself and cast away his name.”

He sighed. “That was a long time ago. And mostly true. I was too young to be tied to an apprenticeship, I wanted adventure. But I wasn’t exiled. I was sent to care for the shrine of the Lady in the Free Marshes while I considered the path I would take. I had a choice.” he shrugged. “Instead I was captured by Templars as soon as my feet touched the shore and I was too seasick to fend them off.”

“And from there they tossed you into the CIrcle, where you met mother.” She added thoughtfully.

“The rest you know.”

She nodded. “I wish,” She chuckled darkly. “There are times I have wished you had been with us through everything. Maybe it would have ended differently.” She pursed her lips before giving him a tight smile. “Or it could have been worse.” She shook her head. “Enough about the past why are you here? Is this real?”

“Is anything real?” He laughed at her scowl. “Oh little Hawke, I am here for you. For whatever reason, your soul called out loud enough to wake me from my dreams and bring me to you. You need something.”

She snorted. “An assistant, perhaps. I do not think my father’s ghost would make the Council very happy.”

He stood and reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Come, let us visit the last All Soul’s we were all together.” Before she could ask, blue shimmered across the floor and up around them. When it fell back into the ground, the ground was white with newly fallen snow. The little one-room house had brightly painted shutters, smoke rising from the chimney, no different than the others that lined the street.

Rose laughed, bordering on hysterical, dropping his hand as she took a step forward. “Lothering.” She spun in a circle, the forest at the end of the road, the fields behind the house, the scarecrow with its dangling head falling under the weight of the snow. She took off and peered in the window of the house. Her hand went to her mouth, to close off the shock and she was tearful when Malcolm joined her while they looked in.

Leandra was at the stove, stirring a thick stew while shooing the twins away from the hot rolls on the table. Rose took a deep breath, the scent so tantalizing it practically danced across her tongue and was suddenly hungry. “You always loved Lea’s vegetable stew. It was one meal we knew we could get you to eat more than half a bowl of.”

“But it was even better with the buttered rolls.” She grinned watching her younger self, it was odd seeing herself at 8 years old, hair a nest of tangles, a hand me down shirt falling to her knees over threadbare leggings and bare feet. She winced remembering how cold it could be in the house. How her toes were often blue. But child Rose distracted her, for she had quietly come up to the other side of the table and waited for their mother to turn her back, and quickly snatched a roll, stuffing most of it into her face until Carver tugged on her other arm. Her shoulders moved with a silent sigh and she broke it in half, and then in half again giving Carver and Bethany the unchewed side and smiling when they scampered off to hide behind the ladder leading to their attic bedroom. At the running of little feet, Leandra had turned and Rose could now laugh at what had been a poorly done scowl on her mother’s part. At the time it had stung. But after Rose had turned away Leandra had reached for her before sighing in defeat and turning back to the stove. All the while Malcolm had sat by their fire, tuning his lute and watching his family in silence. He patted the wide hearth and Rose settled beside him, taking up the song as he strummed the tune. Her smile returned when Carver and Bethany joined them, dancing circles around each other until Leandra joined them, clapping to the beat and laughing.

Rose sniffled a little, not realizing her head had fallen to her father’s shoulder. She straightened up and wiped away the tears. “I was too hard on her growing up. I should have been a better daughter.”

“Your mother said the same thing when I saw her.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “You two were as alike as you were different. The same coin, just different sides.”

“And the sides can’t meet each other.” She finished, she gave him a watery smile. “She said that often, especially before we escaped to Kirkwall. And mostly to Bethany and Carver.” She stared back in the window, the happy scene frozen like a painting. “We were happy then. We had nothing but we were happy.”

“We had each other.” Rose rolled her eyes but returned his smile. “Family is something you always have, no one else can take it away. And speaking of, the night is short and we have places to be before we sleep.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

He grabbed her hand and the blue light appeared again. This time it left them in a hallway she barely recalled, after all, she had only been to the Winter Palace twice. She rubbed her hands together, a coldness more in her bones then the air. “It's so quiet.”

‘Come.” Malcolm led her down the hallway and vanished the door before them.

A young woman was sitting on a low stool, head in her hands. But Rose knew those blonde wild spikes of hair anywhere. “Anora.” She said softly, tossing off her father’s cautioning hand and knelt beside her sobbing child. She threw a glance back to Malcolm, pleading. “Is there nothing I can do?”

He shook his head. “Its something she has to do on her own.”

Rose sighed but her words were caught off as Marethari entered the room through Malcolm. Rose scooted out of the way, unseen or not she did not want to be stepped on. Marethari knelt before Anora, wrapping her arms around her as she continued to cry. “What is wrong, ma vhenan?”

Anora hiccuped loudly before she answered. “I haven’t been home in almost two years. Mirra is finally old enough to dress up for the All Souls festivities and to go trick or treating.” She sniffled and rubbed the tears from her cheeks. “I wish Leliana didn't make us attend the Chantry service. I know it's her job as Divine but seeing everyone there with their families and the little ones in costume makes me miss home.” She gave a long sigh. “And I don’t think I will be able to get away to visit for Satinalia.”

Marethari squeezed her hands and gave her an understanding smile. “I know its not the same, but the others and I have been planning a trick or treat of our own. We have about a dozen pumpkins in need of carving and we are going to hand out candy.” She stood and held out her arms to Anora. “We may not be home with family but we’ve got our own little family going here too.”

Anora smiled and took her hands, letting herself be pulled up. “You’re right. And they would want me to enjoy myself, not weep in a room alone.” Marethari brushed kisses against her cheek, holding her close. Rose closed her eyes until she heard their feet moving again. She watched them with a pleased smile as they left.

“Finding family seems to be a theme for your family, Hawke.” She nodded and he held out his hand to her. “Then let us go see the rest of them.”

Isabela and Merrill were curled up before their fire, wrapped in exotic skins and fabric and drinking hot cider. They were discussing a few of the children in Merrill’s school that showed more of an interest in the sea then staying on land and if Isabela could get them apprenticeships in her crews.

Orana and Fenris were up with their third child, Fenris waltzing around the room as the child finally calmed enough to be given back to his mother to get his middle of the night snack. Tiny pumpkins covered their table, a dusting of sugar still covering them and the candies in the basket beside them waiting to be handed out the next day.

Varric was curled up reading a book and Malcolm pressed a finger to his lips, stifling Rose’s urge to speak. He led her quietly from the room and she introduced him to the rest of his sleeping grandchildren. Duncan was half dangled off his bed but his mabari eyed them the entire time they were there and Rose told Malcolm about his exploits. She did the same for Annabeth, her dark curls and cupid mouth reminding them both of Bethany at her age. Mirra and Violet were curled up together fast asleep but when Rose opened her mouth Violet sat straight up in bed and stared at them.

“I thought they couldn’t hear us?”

It was Violet who answered. “Mamae? Is something wrong?”

Rose settled on the bed beside her. “No. I.” She was silent a moment. “I am not sure how to tell you whats going on. This.” She gestured to him. “Is my father, Malcolm. He’s...visiting.”

Violet nodded before fixing him her bright eyes. “I have seen you in my dreams.”

He stooped to speak to her. “So you are the purple wisp that visits.’ She grinned shyly. “No harm done, little one. Just be safe as you dream.”

She hugged Rose and then curled back around Mirra and went back to sleep. Rose stared down at her daughters, smoothing one of Mirra’s golden curls between her fingers. “She’s so young, our Vee. She never speaks much of her time before us. But to be Qunari and apparently a Dreamer?” Malcolm nodded as she sighed, smoothing Violet’s hair back from around her horns. “How do I keep her safe?”

“Knowledge is the best gift we can give our children.” His tone became gruff. “I wish had given more to you and your brother and sister.”

She looped her arm through his as she stood. “Come. I want you to see something.”

They stepped through the door and found themselves in Kirkwall’s graveyard. She led him to the Amell mausoleum and then inside. Leandra and Bethany had urns beneath their plaques. “Beloved Mother and Cherished Sister.” Malcolm read. The space beneath Carver’s was empty. It still settled like lead in her stomach. “Our Brother, Our Hero.” He said nothing about his plaque, or its words, “Our Father, Never Forgotten.” He traced his fingers across all their names. His shoulders shook a moment but he was turning back to Rose before she could say anything. “Thank you for bringing me here.” He stepped quickly back outside and took a deep breath before turning to her again. “Although it is odd to read one’s gravestone.”

She chuckled. “As Champion of Kirkwall, I have had mine picked out for some time. You get used to it.”


	4. Chapter 4

They moved up to the walk and stared eastward over the sea for a time, the barest lightening of the horizon could be seen when Malcolm spoke again. “I have one final thing to show you. It's not set in stone. It is simply what could be.”

Malcolm moved to stand before her and grabbed her shoulders slowly turning her to face Kirkwall again.

Chaos had erupted. Sickly green light glowed from the sky, buildings burned. Whole chunks of the Keep were missing, screams echoed so loudly they pounded through her head. Demons shrieked and roared in the streets. Red lyrium jutted skywards, jagged and throbbing. She turned bewildered to him. “Its, what happened?”

The fact he looked uncomfortable did not bring her a single bit of reassurance. “Simply a possible future. A what could be.”

She turned back, her hands had a white-knuckled grip on the stone. “How do I stop this?”

He moved beside her surveying the city. “Maybe it's not up to you this time.”

“It's my city.” She choked out the words, anger blooming across her cheeks. “These are my people, my home. My children are here, damn it!”

“You were once my child, and I fought to protect you.” He looked so calm, and it made her temper boil hotter, she could feel her magic burning across her skin. “I gave you what I could, what I was given time to give. That's all you can do for them, no matter how bitter it tastes.” He finally looked away, ashamed.

And so was she. “Papa.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. Every missed hug in the passage of years she tried to fit into that moment. To let him know she wasn’t really angry at him. She was angry at the father he could have been if he had lived, the one she had made up in her mind to comfort her on during the worst moments of her mother’s ire. During the lonely rides between cities and villages. The cold that seeped into her bones. The father who would have been gallant and saved them from every little thing. But that was not the father he was, nor the father she loved.

When she opened her eyes they were standing in her office again. He gave her a weak smile, the rising sun filtering through him. “Its time, little Hawke.”

She nodded, wiped the tears from her eyes, and give him tired smile. “Goodbye.”


	5. Chapter 5

She woke with a start as she slid from the chair and towards the fireplace. “By the void.” She rubbed her temples and shook her head before checking the window. The moon hung at the midpoint in the sky and she did her best to corral her racing thoughts as she wandered to their bedroom. Varric was still reading but smiled when she opened the door and patted the bed beside him. She stripped off her boots, tossed her earrings in a bowl and curled into bed beside him.

“Your head is going to explode thinking that hard.”

She snorted and adjusted more comfortably against his shoulder. “I fell asleep and had the oddest dream. Or most wonderful. I haven’t decided. It all felt so real.”

“Want to talk about it yet?” She shook her head and he kissed her forehead, settling the book on his stomach. She reached up to balance the other side. “Well, I think I finally caught up to you on this one. Want to read it together?”

“And miss a chance to listen to you tell a story? I think not.” She smiled and kissed his stubbly jaw. The first words were leaving his mouth when she sat up in bed. “You know. There is something I want to tell you.” He stared at her expectantly and rubbing his jaw where her forehead had caught it. “We are taking off the rest of the week.”

“Oh?”

She nodded sharply. “Yes. the whole week, Bran can kiss my ass about it too. The kids are getting older and we didn’t carve any pumpkins yet. And tomorrow is trick or treating. We have a busy day tomorrow and the rest of the week we will spend recovering and visiting friends. We haven’t seen Isabela and Merrill in weeks and I’ve only seen Orana and Fenris because they live here at the Keep too.”

“Allana and Thom invited us to a fall feast to this week.”

She grinned and settled back in beside him. He started to read again. “And we are going to see Anora for Satinalia.”

“As splendid as that sounds, wife, are you going to keep interrupting?” She grinned at him impishly and this time didn’t interrupt him.


End file.
